


work me over baby (it hurts at first)

by orphan_account



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mob, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood and Violence, Broken Bones, Established Relationship, Heavy Angst, Hurt Tony Stark, Identity Porn, Lots of violence bewarned, M/M, Out of Character, Secret Identity, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Whump, hmmmm, sort of spooky idk, the majority of this is whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-29
Updated: 2020-08-29
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:21:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26180323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: The Captain was a recurring nuisance, if you listened to Tony's right hand. Truth be told, Tony wasn't involved in the day to day of his mob. He was more preoccupied with his kid and his husband, Steve.But then he's kidnapped by the Captain. Bruised and thoroughly beaten, the only thing that matters is the smooth voice interrogating him... the one person he thought he was supposed to trust.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Comments: 9
Kudos: 101





	work me over baby (it hurts at first)

**Author's Note:**

> i don't even like mob aus really, a lot of the time they have murder kink which is not my thing... i wrote this for the pain of betrayal. i haven't gotten it betaed :/ because I have no beta :/ if you want to sign up for that job I would love it!!
> 
> also there is quite a lot of graphic violence in this, you might want to tread carefully. I've read worse but idk

Tony grit his teeth. People like… well, kids like this, he didn’t want to rough them up at all. The Captain was getting closer, though. 

‘Hey, kid. Nice to meet you,’ he said dryly, hidden by the shadows. ‘Never expected to catch you. You’re fast, aren’t you?’ he asked, continuing to pace around the room. Sunlight reflected in through the big French windows. 

His, well, his base, if that’s what you preferred, was an old family home, sitting in the middle of the city like a cultured mansion, busy with all the different people that you’d expect in the mob. He had his main people, Natasha and Clint, Pepper and Rhodey, living on the top floor in luxury. His office was the center of everything, with all that beautiful sunlight lighting him up from the inside, and soft piano music. The “office” he was in wasn’t as pretty. There was a little grate on the floor. Pietro knew what it was for. 

‘I will never break because of someone like you!’ the kid shouted, accent ringing around the room. If he’d known his surname, there would be threats against it. As it was, Tony stood just behind him. ‘Your tongue will be ripped from your throat, as you deserve!’ 

The kid was furiously knocking about in his chair, scared half to death of the man standing behind him as Pietro cursed him out. ‘Don’t think you’re in a position to say that, sweetheart,’ Tony said, his voice colored with amusement. The kid, Pietro- and Tony had his own Peter at home -finally went still. He was shivering a little. 

Tony spun on his heel, ready to leave the room now that he’d seen their treasure. ‘Hope you mean it, kid,’ he said, offhand. Pietro let out a low whimper, almost undetectable. Tony let the door slam shut behind him, looking next to him, over to his own Peter. 

‘Mr, um, Mr. Stark? He seems pretty scared in there,’ Peter said, looking past Tony at the heavy door. ‘Don’t be too mean.’ 

Tony chuckled, hugging Peter tightly. ‘Not totally our job to worry about, kiddo.’ He frowned. All those monikers escaped into the nasty part of his job, out into that kid’s poor brain. ‘I’ll ask Nat to go easy on him,’ he promised. 

Peter was quiet. ‘Sure,’ he said. ‘Sure, sure, I mean, that’s fine. You guys aren’t like the fucking  _ Captain _ ,’ he spat. Tony grinned. He was turning out just like Tony. A little cheer rose from the end of the room. Rhodey’s right hand was standing, a crinkled little smile on his face, with his wife. She was fat with babies, twins, and coming to work with her husband while she was on maternity leave. 

Natasha walked by him, leaning in to kiss his cheek. She was just the right height for it, for little tokens of affection. ‘Don’t be too hard on him, Tony said!’ Peter told her. She raised her eyebrows, checking Tony’s face for approval. He nodded at Peter’s words. 

She sighed. ‘I’ll do my best and nothing else,’ she said crisply. Peter lifted his thumb to chew at the nail on it. ‘But I can try… nice.’ 

Tony nodded. ‘All we’re asking, babe. Anyway, we gotta go, Peter has homework, and I have other work.’ They took the private set of stairs up to his sunny office. Peter, almost immediately, laid down on the couch and closed his eyes. Tony just sat at his desk, watching his kid. Poor kid. He was always so eager to help, reminding Tony of his Steve. 

‘Hey, can you explain logarithms?’ Peter asked, squinting out the golden windows and swinging his feet back to the floor. Tony’s stomach lurched when he saw the bulge of a gun, however slight, in the kid’s pants. He didn’t want Peter- didn’t want him to be as guilty as Tony, or as stressed, or as scared for everyone he loved. Peter’s aunt was sure of his safety, even after Ben had died, when he was this close to Tony. 

And Tony? It was hard enough to leave his handsome husband in bed every morning and drive Peter to school, watch as Rhodey went out in search of the elusive Captain’s men and women. Tony grit his teeth, sinking into the warm coffee and work in front of him. Most of his work wasn’t related to the mob crawling through three of his floors, it was with Stark Industries. 

That made him feel better about himself. If there was a way to hand it all away and sit with Pepper, signing her paperwork and inventing the next big thing, going home to Steve at night, he would. Instead, his time was taken up by little silver haired kids following Peter to school. Tony stretched, yawning, and caught a glimpse of Rhodey and Pepper outside. 

They were walking and talking, his hand around her waist and her hand on her swollen belly. Everyone was pregnant, lately. He shook his head, fondly looking back at his paper. He watched the sun get lower in the sky until all his work was done and Peter was dozing on the couch, headphones still in. ‘Wake up, kiddo, we gotta go. Your aunt’s expecting you,’ he said, leading Peter’s body up and towards the door. Happy nodded, always a little irritated that he had to drive Peter home. ‘C’mon, Hap, you’re going to be driving yourself there anyway,’ he reasoned. 

‘I know,’ Happy sulked. Peter, significantly more alert, rolled his eyes. 

‘He’s just a drama queen. Bye, Tony, I’ll see you tomorrow,’ Peter said distractedly. Tony shook his head, smiling tiredly at the sight they made. 

‘Yeah, yeah. And take this out of your pocket,’ he said, pointing at the gun in Peter’s pocket. ‘You’ll get yourself shot.’ Peter’s brows furrowed, his hands nervous. ‘I promise, kiddo.’ Tony left the gun in his desk drawer, alongside the pictures he had of his family. 

He waved out the window when they pulled away. Pepper and Clint entered, the second making a bad joke. Tony made a face. ‘Your puns disgust me, Barton,’ he said. ‘Sit down, what have we got today?’ 

Pepper’s little bundle of joy beneath her chest pushed at her blouse. You could see it, the little kicks mounting an attack on her stomach. ‘I, um- what?’ he asked, jerking his eyes up from the baby kicking at Pepper’s shirt. 

‘The kid’s loose. We let him free after he gave us real information.’ Tony narrowed his eyes. ‘Yeah, I know.’ They exchanged a look. ‘But Nat said so.’ 

‘Can’t go against Natasha, can we?’ Pepper asked. She was the only one who was more elevated than the dirty mob business keeping Tony’s streets safe. 

‘No. We can’t, really,’ Tony said. He clapped his hands together. ‘What’s the information?’ 

‘They’re planning to get a cargo shipment- or something? We’ve never been that type of mob. So what, are we just going to meet them at the docks tomorrow in the dead of night?’ Tony asked, heavy on the sarcasm. Pepper covered a laugh. 

Clint rolled his eyes. ‘Yeah. Supposed to be really easy, though. Bring the kid, he’d like it. Just scare them off of the shipments and see what they’re trying to steal.’ Tony nodded. 

‘I’m not bringing Peter,’ he said with finality. Clint nodded. ‘Anyway, I’d better get home. You, Pepper, go home. Take care of your baby, this dumb mafia doesn’t need you working past sunset. Seriously,’ he said, helping her up and shooing her from the room. ‘Okay, Clint, I’ll see you tomorrow at the, the place.’ He snapped his fingers. ‘Docks. Send me the deets.’ 

Clint snorted. ‘I’m never going to get over how casually you treat the mafia operating in your house. Do you even know how to handle a gun?’ 

Tony scoffed. ‘I know plenty. Maybe my strong suits are in the science and math departments, but I can shoot a gun fine. That said, there’s a reason I don’t participate in your little fights. Hand to hand, you would absolutely cream me,’ he laughed. Clint punched his shoulder, smiling. 

‘That’s what I’m here for, man! I gotta go, tell the kid I love him.’ Peter was already gone, but the message could just as easily be passed along the next day. Tony waved goodbye, picking up his briefcase and his keys. 

He hummed slightly as he took the spiral stairs down to his cramped little garage. He climbed into his car, driving home to the incredible tunes of the Beach Boys, and made a smooth entry into the little Brooklyn brownstone he called home. It was almost ironic to be living in the middle of the Captain’s territory, him being the literal head of a rival mafia, but he found it like a slap in the face. After the amount of people he’d lost over the years, he wanted the Captain to hurt. 

‘Good evening, honey,’ Steve said, flicking on a lamp. Tony startled, bursting into laughter after a second.

‘You scared me, Steve. Nice to be home,’ he said, stretching out to place a kiss on Steve’s lips. He sat on the table, eating the food set out for him and watching Steve make little notes in his diary. Tony put his hands in his armpits, shivering a little. 

‘Ready for bed?’ Steve asked. Tony nodded sheepishly. He’d been so tired, just exhausted after everything he’d been doing, with the Captain’s aggression feeding off of his territory and the company. Steve, at least, had been in a great mood. He was always a bright, happy spot when Tony was worried, especially about the mob. ‘Okay, go on. I’ll join you in a moment.’

Tony kissed him once more, and crawled into his pajamas. His eyes slipped closed, his body automatically curling up around a pillow, as he drifted into sleep. 

  
  


Happy was off with Peter that Saturday, spending time with May, and Natasha was with Pepper and Rhodey, providing advice and baby shopping protection. It was just going to be Clint and Tony, with whoever Clint decided to haul along.

  
Clint was good. Incredible at what he did. Still, there was an uneasiness flipping in his stomach when he pulled up to the little warehouse they were supposed to be at it. He was alone, shutting the car door behind him. 

It was quiet. 

Tony looked around, peering from the end of the ocean to his car. He’d wait. For Clint. Clint was supposed to be there five minutes early, not ten minutes late. Tony’s eyes moved from everything. The inescapable smell of exhaust and death, the shiny car digging its place between the dirt and grime, and the ever present, expectant air swallowing his comfort. Tony was scared. 

A movement out of the corner of his eye revealed- the kid. He pulled out his gun, but another attacker viciously slammed into him, smashing his skull into the dirt. After that, it was just a bloodbath. He kicked and thrashed, screamed his goddamn head off, sent psychic pleas to Clint for help, but nothing. 

They neatly snapped his legs, beat his face bloody, and it turned to a free for all. Four of them, working him over, with kicks, punches into his body. He couldn’t feel which was blood and which was tears, which even mattered. He was always unprepared for this side of the business, he thought. 

There wasn’t much time for thought apart from that. It was only an endless, blackened pit of pain. Someone joined the four, making it five people beating him into the ground. Finally, exhaustingly, he was just a limp body dragged into a car. 

Someone laughed darkly above him. ‘Blind him.’ Tony screamed, rawly, wretchedly, and screamed further when a dirty rag was stuffed into his mouth and covered his eyes.

The sting of salty tears on his cut up, swollen face, didn’t match the feeling of acutely disgusting blindfolds coating his wounds. His hands, especially, felt worse, red hot pain. And his broken legs, bent unnaturally, he could  _ feel  _ it. His body trembled intermittently. The same rough voice from before. ‘Captain’s going to be happy to see him. Looks like some new supplier. Too bad about his face.’    
  
Tony’s jaw was broken, hanging off his face. His skin was unable to scar up, almost bleeding out from every single painful pore. The body he was occupying had begun to white out, bit by bit, like a numbness instead of that burning pain. Every so often, something would flare, and his raspy, dying voice would scream. 

‘Would someone shut him up better?’ the klid muttered. The rough hands belonging to the new person fastened another gag over his face. There was the kid, the woman, two people who didn’t bother to speak, ( _ enforcers _ ) and the newest man, with that raspy voice. He sounded like his arms were scarred up, like his face hid behind stubble and hair, like he was someone so powerful no one bothered to cross him.

He screamed again when the car turned and his body slammed into the side of the car. This time, they didn’t bother with a gag. Just one hard, final slap. His swollen face couldn’t take it, but his screams died down into moans of pain anyway. ‘Finally, we’re here,’ a woman muttered, accented, answered with a clap to her back. 

‘You said it,’ another man answered. Tony found himself annoyed by their lack of gender diversity. Four men and one woman? Really, that was unfair. ‘Tie him up.’ His vision suddenly turned white, a shrillness occupying his throat, as he panicked. 

Because- their hands hurt so badly. The pleasant numbness was gone, and in its place, there was- 

Oh god-

He wanted Steve- 

Tony woke up in a dark room, facing the shadow of someone intimidating. His legs still burned, the blood coating his swollen face and adrenaline pumping his veins making everything- worse. The mangled twist of his legs, his scraped up arms, he would never be the same. Especially if he had an infection, if they had to amputate. The first thing that happened to him, not the first thing he noticed, but the first thing that happened… 

The man kicked him in the stomach. Acid spewed from his throat, vomit pooling on the floor and another dizzying kick to his head knocking him onto the floor, with no regard for his paralyzed limbs. He was all tied up, and most importantly, they didn’t care. 

The man above him was some sort of monster, surrounded by his three buddies. ‘Whaddya going to do with him?’ someone asked. The cowl on his face had to make him- 

‘I don’t know, Soldier. Falcon, What do you think?’ 

‘I don’t know, Captain. How ‘bout we find where he’s keeping your loot?’ 

‘Sounds like a great idea. Now, you little slut, I’m going to say this once. You have something of mine, something that’s been missing an awful long while. I’d like it back.’ The Captain’s voice was like a bone freezing fury cutting through his chest. It was the type of anger that went deeper and more truthful than love, the one that left bodies in its wake. 

Tony was just the newest battered victim in a long line, if they didn’t know the prize they picked up. Desperately, within his spinning head, he tried to summon up what he knew about the going ons of his mob. 

All he could think of was Clint laughing, telling him how little he cared, how little he knew, and how much he hurt. The last one wasn’t Clint, it was the aching, stinging, painful parts of his body beating him,  _ beating him into the ground _ . 

And now it was the Falcon and the Soldier and the Captain. His frail body, a little old and tired, was easy, malleable clay beneath the fingerprints squeezing the last bits of strength from his body. Thuds of impact rang through the room. A gag was shoved back into his mouth. 

Tony squeezed his eyes shut. 

He drank in the moments without someone’s eager hands.

He waited for it to stop. 

‘Ready to talk now?’ that elusive, dark voice said in his ear. Tony shook and cried. He didn’t speak. 

‘Again.’ 

And again, and again. 

The Captain spoke. ‘You work for the most ruthless person this side of the Hudson, kid. You’re going to tell me what they’ve done with him, or I’ll rip the bones from your body.’ Still, Tony did not speak, and with a scream of frustration, the man  _ ripped  _ his left arm’s bones apart. They all heard the snap. Tony stared at it, even though it was shadowy and he could not see for tears, he stared at the splintered arm. He was truly broken now. 

The Captain’s men beat down his wrists and arms, smashing with their fists like fat hammers. Thunderer, the one with the hammer, that Clint had warned him about, and his wily little torture brother. Clint had been in bed for months after that piece of shit. Tony’s throat spasmed in another brief cry. Wait. This was the Falcon and the Soldier,

The Captain growled. ‘You took my husband, and I’m not stopping until you’re sorry.’ The Captain was like a big, overwhelming drug, pulling him under and ripping apart his bones. Literally ripping them, heating the skin under like a slow burning fire. 

‘You know, Cap, this might not work,’ the Soldier said idly. His voice was light, a contrast to his fierce punch, straight into Tony’s gut. And it made him bleed. Made him raw. 

‘I’m just worried about him!’ Steve cried. Oh. 

Oh.

Oh, that was Steve who ripped his arm apart and flung his safety out the window. Tony made a muffled noise with his gag, collapsing into sobs. Steve, who brought him across the threshold of their home,  _ Steve _ , who was going to kill him. He didn’t think this was a betrayal he could experience. To have his husband making the orders shearing his hair and patches of skin from his head. 

  
Steve was making him hurt. 

He thought, strangely, of the first time they had sex. 

_ “Steve, you’re hurting me.’ He winced, a little, and Steve’s hands left his body, inspecting him like one would a doll.  _

_ ‘Sorry, sorry, Tony!’ he said frantically. ‘I’ll stop. We’ll stop.’ Tony laughed, pulling him back in.  _

_ ‘Not just yet, darling, I want to see what those fingers can do to me, a little more careful,’ he said breathily, laughing a little.  _

Now, his body was disappearing through the air in some wild attempt to save him. Tony knew. He knew these injuries weren’t something you recovered from easily, they could take months or even years. 

‘Next time we come back, you won’t be so lucky, eh?’ the Falcon laughed. Maybe it was Bucky. Or worse, Sam. Tony kept his mafia business separate from Steve’s innocence, but for Steve, it would be… what? A family? He and Bucky were always besties, they would rain blows down together too. 

Just death. Just death was waiting for him after this, but he wanted answers. How could- his heart was pounding, his limbs shaking- How could Steve do this to him? Tony whimpered into his gag. 

  
  


They didn’t feed him. And he didn’t see Steve again. Instead- he- 

Tony didn’t really think well, didn’t feel like a big person, a big mafia boss. Steve’s betrayal was becoming numb, number by the second, replaced by a grueling pain and fear. He was approaching death. He was. Steve was going to be the one that killed him. 

Until, that was, until the moment the commotion outside. Time was as distant as the lifelong happiness he’d thought he’d found a week ago. (Was it a week?) He thought the noise ratcheting up outside his little interrogation room was just a game of cards leaving the local bar, but the door slammed behind Pepper. He could see her pregnant silhouette outlined in the door. That was Pepper, and behind her, unbeknownst to her, was the Captain. 

Steve-Steve-Steve-Steve, his heart thrummed with it. Steve was going to smack her around. Hurt the baby. ‘Pep,’ he moaned, screaming shrilly and briefly at the movement. She rushed forward, bubt it only drew more panic into his stuttering heart. The three figures behind her, they were going to kill the both of them.  _ Rhodey’s baby _ . 

‘Holy shit,’ she whispered, kneeling with difficulty at his side. And behind her, they entered the room. 

And Tony’s stomach sank. 

And Pepper didn’t realize. 

And there was Steve with his friends, about to beat Tony’s best friend to death, and him, too. ‘Looks like we caught two,’ the Soldier rumbled. 

Pepper whipped around, murder in her eyes. She stumbled back, falling on her ass with a little whimper. ‘Maybe he was more important than we thought, Cap,’ the Falcon said to the side.    
  
Tony was not important. He was just a body, sitting swollen and bloody on the floor. ‘Maybe,’ the Captain agreed. He was even  _ more  _ angry. Tony didn’t want to be his punching bag again. 

A frightened little whimper escaped between his lips. Pepper stared in horror, struck dumb by the tragedy of Tony Stark. Steve, she’d known Steve. He had pictures of Steve on his desk.

Oh, Steve, how he loved Steve how he would give everything to Steve. 

Steve stepped forward and grabbed his hair. Tony wriggled like a fish, not wanting to move, but his raw throat was screaming, his broken bones were shifting through his body like water flowed through a funnel, and everything hurt. 

Pepper looked up at him. At Steve. ‘You despicable, you  _ horrible _ ,’ she gasped. Pepper realized. Pepper could recognize faces, could try to save Tony. 

‘I’m a mob boss, honey, I beat people up, I shoot them. This time, I meant it.’ Tony didn’t see it, but he knew the dark look that Steve must have shot him. He meant it, and Tony fell limp. Steve’s hands in his hair were all he had. 

‘Why, though. Why?’ Pepper asked plaintively. 

Steve took a deep breath, shuddering across Tony’s hair. ‘When you love someone, you don’t want them to be hurt,’ he said. It was gentler than before. This part of Steve, the gentle part, the happy part, and the dark and angry part, were both directed at Tony. He was getting whiplash. 

‘He loved you, though, he always loved you,’ Pepper said, tears rushing down her face. Tony could see it clearly from where he was dangling. Her hands were wrapped around her bump, keeping the comfort there. 

‘The fuck?’ the Falcon muttered, raising an eyebrow. ‘Whatever. Get up, bitch, stand up.’ Pepper stood up, with great difficulty, managing both her baby and her emotions like a goddess. 

‘We don’t believe in murdering pregnant women, congratulations. Whose baby is that?’ the Soldier asked. 

She shook her head in silent protest at what they were insinuating. ‘Listen, we’ll just keep it, okay? Nice addition to the ranks of the mob,’ the Falcon laughed. ‘And once it’s born, we'll kill you.’

Pepper braced her hand on the wall. ‘What kind of monster are you?’ she stumbled to say. 

Steve’s eyes grew weighted. ‘I just want to find my husband.’ Before Pepper could reply, he had slammed a fist into Tony’s chest. He wheezed.

Just a punching bag, like a sad little half dead punching bag. 

Pepper was laughing, strangled and disbelieving. ‘Your husband?’ she asked shrilly. ‘Your husband?’ Steve started forward, clenching his fists. ‘He's laying in front of you!’

‘What?’ the Soldier asked.

‘You just beat him to death!’ she screamed. ‘He loved you, too, he loved you so much,’ she continued, breathless. ‘He would come in and kiss my cheek and tell me he had to go see his Steve before it got too late. Or, or you were making dinner for Bucky and Sam and he wanted to be there.’

‘No,’ Steve whispered. ‘He- I. What?’ Tony was still crying, steady and unending. 

‘That’s not true,’ the Soldier insisted, wrestling Steve into his arms.

‘Is it?’ Pepper asked. Her voice was empty. ‘The head of my mob is named Tony Stark, and he disappeared a week ago. And now he’s almost dead.’

‘That’s not Tony. Tony would have told me. I’d have recognized him,’ Steve snarled. 

She shook her head. ‘You have a habit of making your husband scream? Look!’ She pointed. 

Tony was still on the floor. 

Steve fell to his knees beside Tony, and he couldn’t help but flinch away with all the movement his body had left. ‘No, baby, we’ll get you help.’

‘I’ll get him,’ Bucky said, picking Tony up. He screamed his lungs out. ‘Hospital.’

Pepper punched Steve’s face, but he was so fragile, Steve was so hurt that he fell to the ground. Tony watched him disappear behind Barnes’ heavy footsteps. ‘Help him,’ Steve screeched, loudly. 

‘Help him! You did this to him, you-  _ Tony _ ,’ she said, looking back at him again. He sluggishly moaned again. 

Steve was getting more and more desperate, panicked. ‘Buck!’ he said shrilly. ‘Someone,  _ Bucky _ , someone, help him, help him, help him,’ he sobbed. 

  
  


Tony blinked his eyes closed. They didn’t open for a month, a whole month of waiting, of holding hands, of vicious fights and Steve falling apart. That was what Peter told him, at least, when he woke up. ‘I can’t believe you’re back.’

‘Can’t believe I’m alive,’ he managed, voice thick and slurred. Peter laughs; watery. 

‘Don’t think any of us can, Dad.’ Tony felt stars burst in his chest. He was drugged to the gills, though, so it had to be love. N explosions happening in his chest except for the ones inside his heart. ‘There was a miracle drug.’ 

‘Ah. Makes sense.’ Everything was all wonderful, and fuzzy. Peter called him Dad, that was great… where was Steve? What had even happened. 

‘Steve got it for you.’ Steve… what a beautiful man. Kind, handsome, gorgeous, pretty, all that blond hair. Mmm. ‘Ms. Potts gave birth!’ That was exciting. Tony had to be the godfather. He’d make the mind blingy go after her. Beam it to her mind like aliens. 

‘Wh-res -teve?’ Tony mumbled. 

‘Steve? Next time you wake up, Dad. I’ll get him for you.’ Peter sounded funny. Gotta check in on his kid, time for crying time. What a good kid. What a good life Tony had. How nice...   
  


Tony opened his eyes a few days later, a little clearer. ‘Tony? Tony?’ He tried to raise his eyebrows to combat the drugs, but the senses were overwhelming. Fluorescents imprinting on his eyelids, worried voices all around. Peter was gone, but this time, Steve and Pepper and Rhodey and Clint, even Nat. He moaned. 

‘Shhh!’ Pepper’s unmistakable hiss of disapproval. 

‘Honey, honey, I am so sorry!’ Steve was holding his hand like it was glass. He sounded frantic, and apologetic, and scared to death. ‘I shoulda known, honey, I shoulda known.’

Tony languidly patted his hand. ‘S fine, babe. Whatever you did, I’m sure you can fix it. Whatsit? What's wrong?’ 

‘Get outta here if you’re just going to use him to alleviate your guilt.’ Big mama bear Rhodey. Rhodey was great. Capital G  _ great _ . 

‘Better yet, get out. There’s not enough room for you here.’

Where was Peter? That kid called him dad! Tony wanted to be his dad. He was a really good kid…

  
  


The next time was a lot better. It had to have been at least a few months since that first, blurry, drug trip with Peter. Standing at the back of the room, staring out the window, was Steve. Dressed in a handsome black suit, hands clasped behind his back, he certainly looked the part of the vicious mob boss. He had an undercut now, more brown than blond. ‘Hey, honey,’ Tony said weakly. 

It was instant, Steve’s transformation from calculating to just plain worried. He lunged over, reaching out to grasp his hand. Tony couldn’t stop his flinch at all the sudden movements. Steve darted back, not touching him. ‘Sorry. Is everything alright? Do you need your pillows fluffed?’ he asked, panicked. 

Tony considered him. ‘You didn’t know. You definitely didn’t know,’ he acknowledged. ‘I have to decide if that’s going to be enough, though. Steve, you need to realize that. I don’t want to leave this bed yet. I don’t want to leave the room. Certainly not the hospital. I’m too scared. And, you know,’ he laughed, throat dry. ‘You know, that that was you. So I’m going to have to decide.’ 

‘Whatever you want,’ Steve breathed, backing away. He tucked in on himself. 

  
  
Tony stared at him. ‘You need to listen to me, okay? While I’m still- honest, and brain-addled, and on drugs. You listen to me,’ he said fiercely. ‘I don’t think I could give you up, Steve. Not ever.’

‘What?’ he breathed. 

‘Yeah, yeah, you heard me. So I expect the same. You’re going to leave this room but you’re going to come back soon. Someone will tell you when I’m ready. Sometime soon, you’re going to dye your hair back, and it’ll be just like it was.’ Steve blinked quickly; he was crying. He shook hs head, as if he didn’t understand. ‘I’m going to have you back. But you have to leave now. Just while I’m healing.’ He said the last part soft. Most of his little speech didn’t make a lick of sense- for now, he’d blame it on the drugs. 

What he knew was this; he’d married Steve sometime in March. Neither of them dealt well with power, but they’d give it all up for each other. Tony was going to heal from this for the rest of his life. And if he wanted, he could have it all back. The mob, the luxuries, the corporations, the police under his thumb, the extra-competence at his right hand. 

All he wanted, though, was Steve. 

**Author's Note:**

> if you liked please comment and kudos!! I love comments a lot


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